


Wild Horses

by KaibaSlaveGirl34



Series: Yu-Gi-Oh Stories/Crossovers [9]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Bars and Pubs, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Gen, Inspired by Music, Song: Wild Horses, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/pseuds/KaibaSlaveGirl34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU oneshot. Yami is a sheriff of a town in the Wild West. Songfic to Wild Horses by Garth Brooks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Horses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harry2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry2/gifts).



> Here’s a new Yu-Gi-Oh oneshot about Yami Yugi that I cooked up one day. This time, it’s set in...the Wild West. I like the Wild West because of the cowboys, the adventure, the wildness. (I was partly inspired to write this by reading the book Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. It’s a really good book, by the way.) I dedicate this to Journey Maker on ff dot net (as she encourages and inspires me a lot), as well as Harry2 (aka Harry on Twisting the Hellmouth). :)
> 
> Disclaimer: Genius Kazuki Takahashi owns Yu-Gi-Oh. The lyrics to Wild Horses by Garth Brooks belong to their respective owners. I own the fanfics I cook up from time to time.

Wild Horses

It was a new afternoon in the Old Wild West. Cowboys were walking around the town, getting in rumbles with each other, usually over a woman they both liked, and often chatting with each other, usually about guy stuff. Horses filled the air with their neighs and whinnying.

_From a phone booth in Cheyenne_  
_I made a promise to Diane_  
_No more rodeos_  
_I’d gone my last go ‛round_

_The same promise that I made_  
_in San Antone and Santa Fe_  
_But tonight I saddled up_  
_and let her down_

Then, all of a sudden, everything came to a complete stop.

“Howdy, boys.”

That voice...

The cowboys, who, a few minutes before, had been tussling on the sandy ground, suddenly looked up. Their eyes widened.

It was **him**...!

His name was Sheriff Yami Moto on his horse, Wild King. It was a fine, noble steed, with brown eyes and a white body. It was said to be extremely rare, and it was. Yami had captured and tamed it a few months ago. There was no denying it — he, Yami, was the king of the cowboys, if there ever was such a thing. He wore a black shirt with buttons on the sleeves with a blue vest over it and blue jeans with chaps. A golden sheriff's badge adorned his right breast pocket on his shirt. A black wide-brimmed cowboy hat covered his lightning bolt-shaped red, yellow and black hair. Black cowboy boots — with golden spurs attached — adorned his feet. The boots were two inches in length and very shiny.

“What are you guys doing?” he drawled.

“Uh...” The cowboys couldn’t think of an answer.

Yami waited.

“Hey!” a different voice called. “When my friend Yami asks a question, he demands an answer.”

It was Duke Devlin. His green eyes and black hair shone in the afternoon sun as he sat on his horse, aptly called Red Fire. He was a friend of Yami. They had been friends ever since Yami had caught his first bad guy — an escaped bank robber with a price of $10,000 on his head..

_The bank robber, dressed all in black and wearing a black bandanna, stepped out of the bank and stood there across from Yami._

_Yami narrowed his dark amethyst eyes. **This bank robber means trouble!** he thought._

_Immediately, before the robber was able to whip out his pistol, Yami reached down and quickly grabbed his lasso.  
Then he swung it in a perfect circle — having taken lessons at the age of five — and threw it forward. It sang through the air like the notes of a piano and dropped down around the robber. _

_The robber’s eyes widened, and he felt himself being yanked off his feet and knocked to the ground._

_Yami smiled to himself as he pulled the robber towards him. Then he picked him up like he was a sack of potatoes, pulled off the rope around his feet, walked over to the county jail and tossed him in before finally shutting the door._

_The sheriff at the time — Ray Charles — was mighty pleased. “Good ropin’, Cowboy Yami,” he said, giving Yami a smile and tip of his hat. Smiling, Yami returned the gesture._

Yami then got off his horse and walked over to the cowboys. The sound of his golden spurs clinked with each step. Then, when he was only four feet away, he stopped.

At that moment both cowboys charged with anger in their eyes.

But Yami remained calm and simply grabbed both of them by their shirts, and then tossed him over his shoulders. They landed painfully on the ground.

In the Wild West, one never messed with Sheriff Yami. He was tough as nails and twice as cool and collected. But the ladies didn’t seem to mind. They liked the combo of “tough and full of danger” and “sweet and gentle”.

_Wild horses keep draggin’ me away_  
_And I’ll lose more than I'm gonna win someday_  
_Wild horses just stay wild_  
_And her heart is all I break_  
_Wild horses keep draggin’ me away_

_She’ll watch me drive around her block_  
_Gettin’ courage up to stop_  
_To make her one more promise_  
_That I can’t keep_

_The way I love the rodeo_  
_I guess I should let her go_  
_Before I hurt her more_  
_Than she loves me_

Then Yami turned toward the saloon and headed inside. The buzz of everyday chatter stopped when the cowboys saw him.

“Ah, Yami!” the bartender, Joe, who was short and thin and had dark brown eyes and black hair, called, “the usual, I presume?”

By “the usual”, he was referring to a glass of Coca-Cola. Yami loved the taste. It was really sweet and refreshing.

“Of course,” Yami replied, grinning. He strolled casually up to the bar and sat down. Joe then poured a generous glass of Coca-Cola and put it in front of Yami.

“You’re the sheriff, Yami,” he said, smiling still, “and I think you deserve a free drink now and then.”

“I agree,” Yami drawled as he took a sip.

“You know, if I was a deputy sheriff, I would love to do the same line of work you do — it sounds neat,” Joe remarked.

Yami was intrigued. “Really?” he remarked. “I suppose I’ll have to teach you the ropes sometime.”

Joe was another good friend of Yami. He had a cool personality, and often gave Yami good advice. Plus he encouraged Yami in a way that put Yami in mind of CD Parker from Walker, Texas Ranger — the mannerisms, the sense of humor, and very feel.

Of course, Yami, whenever he looked at a cowboy, would also remind himself of Cordell Walker, and often smile. It was as though he was Walker – sometimes cool and smiling, but when threatened, he would fight.

Yami found Walker’s use of the martial arts very inspiring and just the thing he thought might come in handy.

_Wild horses keep draggin’ me away_  
_And I’ll lose more than I’m gonna win someday_  
_Wild horses just stay wild_  
_And her heart is all I break_  
Wild horses keep draggin’ me away

_Wild horses keep draggin’ me away_  
_And I’ll lose more than I’m gonna win someday_  
_Wild horses just stay wild_  
_And her heart is all I break_  
Wild horses keep draggin’ me away

Yami smiled to himself as he drained his Coca-Cola and gave Joe his thanks, then headed out of the saloon.

 _The Wild West is amazing,_ he thought as he lay down on the ground a few miles away that night. _So much adventure, danger and cool wildness._

He loved the life of a cowboy. It had its dangers, as well as its benefits. The Wild West was full of surprises and suspense at every turn. He never knew what was going to happen next, but to Yami, that was the cool part.

It was, above all, the right life for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Nice feedback is appreciated, of course. :)


End file.
